Chapter Fifteen
Gordon’s Tap was located in a large, ramshackle building that looked as if a strong wind might blow it over at any moment.
It was made of thin wood siding, which had lost its paint long ago and now was just a dirty gray.
As Kate got closer, she spotted a covered stairwell hugging the building’s side, though the door leading up to it, if there ever had been a door, was missing.
Several men were loitering under the front awning, clutching beer bottles.
Kate was hesitant to pass, but she saw no other way to get to the stairwell.
“Hey, sweetheart! Where you goin’? Want a drink?” one of them called.
Kate ignored him and ducked inside the stairwell.
“Be that way, then!” the man called after her.
Kate hurried up the steps, eager to get away from them and from the rain that had just now begun pelting down, the sound of it loud and exaggerated on the tin roof.
Thank God she had gotten here before she got drenched.
It would have been terrible to show up on her long-lost family’s doorstep looking like a drowned rat.
She paused on the first landing, remembering that Mrs. Seitgart had told her they lived on the second floor. The single door was dented in one place, and the trim was rotting, but there was no other, so this must be the place.
She stood there for a few moments, breathing deeply.
This was it. She was about to meet her family.
Her real family. Would they welcome her with open arms or reject her, tell her to leave?
That seemed the most likely outcome, she warned herself.
As why else would they not have come looking?
Though maybe . . . maybe they thought she was dead? Oh! She hadn’t thought of that.
Kate’s chest was heaving as she gave the door a swift knock before she lost the sliver of courage remaining.
After only a few moments, the door opened wide to reveal a stocky woman with dark eyes and dark hair tied at her nape. A baby was balanced on her rather full hip. “Yes?”
Kate hoped for some stir of recognition, however faint, but there was nothing. She cleared her throat. “Are you . . . are you Ann Espo? . . . or Esposito?”
The woman’s round eyes narrowed. “I used to be. I’m Ann Price now. Why?”
Kate was at a loss for words. She should have planned this out better! “I . . . I think I might be your sister,” she said in an unusually high voice.
Ann rolled her eyes. “You one of the O’Connells?” She nodded at the apartment above. “Top floor. They’ve always got people turnin’ up, saying they’re relatives. Like Ellis Island up there.” She began to close the door.
Kate remained immobile as these words sank in, but then panicked when she realized she was blowing her chance and blurted, “No, I’m not one of the O’Connells.
” Though she could be, she thought irritably, since she had no idea who she really was.
“I’m . . . My name is Kate Kerwyn,” she faltered, realizing as soon as she said it that this would mean nothing to the woman.
“I’m from Merriweather. My family used to live there.
I think. Somehow, I got separated from them. ”
“Who is it, Ma?” A little girl of about ten appeared at the woman’s side and peered up at Kate. Ann handed her the baby and then folded her arms across her ample chest.
“I ain’t exactly sure. Says she’s my sister.”
Kate shifted uncomfortably while the two continued to stare at her.
“Well, ain’t ya gonna ask her in?” The girl plopped the baby onto her own hip, which was nonexistent, causing her to have to angle her body sharply.
“Aye.” Ann sighed. “Reckon so. Come on in.”
Kate, her nerves racing, followed the woman inside. She dutifully wiped her feet on the dirty mat and tried to take in her surroundings without making it too obvious that she was doing so. She was surprised by how small it was, but she liked small spaces, like her badger hole.
“What did ya say yer name was again?” Ann asked, putting her hands on her hips.
“Kate. Kate Kerwyn.”
“Don’t ring a bell.” She shook her head slightly and pulled at her chin. “Had a sister, Marie, that went missing.” She raised an eyebrow, waiting for Kate’s reaction.
Marie? Marie? It meant nothing!
“You’re from Merriweather, you say? How old are you?”
“Well, I’m not exactly sure, but I think I’m eighteen. Thereabouts.”
Ann twisted her lips. “That’d be the right age.” She peered at her closely. “How come you think you’re an Esposito?”
Kate wasn’t sure where to begin. “I . . . I was found wandering as a toddler outside of Merriweather and taken in by a local family—the Kerwyns?” Kate paused to see if there was any recognition, but there was not.
“No one knew who I was or where I came from,” she continued, “and it’s only recently that I started to wonder.
I . . . I started inquiring, and a woman in town—Rosemary Mueller?
” Kate paused again. Still nothing. “Well, she seemed to remember that one of the men who died in a big mining accident years back had a large family and that the mother died shortly after of diphtheria. Espo, she thought their name was. Relatives from Shullsburg came and took all the kids back with them. So, I thought maybe I’d look for you.
To see . . . to see what happened. I guess. ”
Kate’s gaze during this speech had gone from Ann to the floor to the girl by her side and then back to Ann again, who now, Kate was surprised to see, had tears in her eyes.
Ann stared at Kate for several long moments, her brow furrowed deeply.
“Are you . . . could you . . . are you really little Marie?” she asked hoarsely.
Ann looked at the girl beside her as if to help her understand.
“Marie?” she asked incredulously, turning her eyes back to Kate, who was beginning to tremble.
Was she Marie?
“Oh my God, Marie!” Ann exclaimed, deciding that she was.
She threw her arms around Kate and held her tight.
“Is it really you?” she asked, pulling back and looking her up and down again, joy written across her face.
“I can’t hardly believe it! Jenny,” she said, “this is your Aunt Marie! Well, I’ll be!
Come on, come on! Sit yerself down in the front room, there. ”
Ann gestured toward a sagging sofa that might have been respectable at one point, but that now was rather shabby, with several rips and one large stain. It was piled with newspapers and various pieces of crumpled clothing, including a few dirty socks. “Jenny, put the baby down and clear a space.”
The girl set the baby down, who immediately began to crawl away, and cleared a stack of newspapers from the sofa, enough at least for Kate to sit down.
She then followed the baby to where it had crawled down a narrow hallway, scooped it up, and returned, plopping herself on the arm of a chair and staring at Kate with big soft brown eyes.
“You want something to eat?” Ann called from a makeshift kitchen, which wasn’t its own room proper, but consisted of merely a stove and a sink and a couple of cupboards along the opposite wall.
Kate was about to answer in the affirmative when she caught herself, noting their obvious poverty. “No, I’m fine at the moment,” she answered, glad that she had taken advantage of Mrs. Seitgart’s cookies.
“Nothing? How about a slice of bread?”
“Well, if you . . . if you have enough.”
“That’s one thing we always seem to have, don’t we, Jenny?” Ann called cheerfully and reached for the breadbox. “You want coffee?”
“If you have some made,” Kate called.
“Won’t take a minute.” She plopped a slice of bread on a plate, covered it with something, and held it up. “Here, Jenny, give this to her.”
The girl propped the baby back on her hip, retrieved the plate, and delivered it to Kate. It held a thin slice of bread with an equally thin layer of strawberry jam.
“We’re all outta oleo,” Ann called. “But with the jam, you don’t really notice, do you, Jenny?” Ann carried in two cups of coffee and handed one to Kate. She picked up a blanket lying on a torn armchair, its stuffing poking through, and sat down heavily. She tossed the blanket on the floor.
Kate was suddenly not hungry, but she forced herself to take a bite. This was not what she had been expecting at all. Was this woman really her sister?
“My goodness,” Ann said, wiping one eye with the back of her hand. “I never thought I’d see the day. Wait ‘til yer da hears.” She gave Jenny an excited little nod and then looked back at Kate expectantly. “What happened to you, Marie? I mean . . . Kate.”
Kate swallowed the tiny bite of dry bread in her mouth and washed it down with a sip of very weak coffee. “I was hoping you could tell me.”
Ann shifted in her chair. “Well, it’s like that woman told you.
Da died, then Ma, and we was left orphans.
Weren’t long before Uncle Al, that’s Da’s brother—Alphonse was his real name—and Aunt Dorothy turned up from Shullsburg to take us all in.
Well, some of us. The older ones. So as we could help on the farm.
You little ones got taken to Queen of Angels in Green Bay. ”
“What’s Queen of Angels?” Kate asked, though a part of her somehow already knew.
“That’s the big orphanage up there.”
“But I wasn’t taken.” Kate gripped her mug tightly. “I was found crying and dirty near the Wareham farm. Does that mean anything to you?”
Ann shook her head slowly. “No. Don’t know any Warehams. Uncle Al and Aunt Dorothy took us, and a neighbor took the three—or two, I guess—of you up to Green Bay.”
“Who was this neighbor?” Kate asked, thinking she might be able to ask Rosemary about them, if she had a name.
Ann shrugged. “I don’t remember, Marie. Kate. I was only six. I don’t remember much at all.”
Kate sighed and tried to think. “Well, wouldn’t this neighbor have realized that there were only two kids, when there should have been three?”